


The Vampires of Greta 6

by LunarC



Series: The Link Between Us [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Adventure, M/M, Mind Link, Mind Meld, Slow Build, Space Vampires, comatose character, little bit spooky, mention of being 'locked in', verrrry slow build, violence warning for first chapter, we're getting there guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarC/pseuds/LunarC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During an investigation of a Federation colony that had suddenly gone silent McCoy is attacked by a violent enemy.<br/>Spock, Jim and the medical crew attempt to save him, while unraveling the mystery of what unfolded on the planet and rescuing the remaining survivors.<br/>In the aftermath Spock and McCoy struggle to come to grips with the mental link strung tedious, un-examined and powerful between them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second story in a series of three.  
> The first can be found here: [ Captured: The Z14 Incident ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5539517/chapters/12778856)  
> I highly recommend reading that story first, as it is referenced a lot in this work and may be hard to understand without reading. 
> 
> Again, this is an un-beta'd fiction, I wrote it in 2-3 days. Hopefully I caught most of the mistakes!  
> Enjoy!

Missions aboard the Enterprise were hardly ever as straightforward as they seemed and the away mission to investigate the sudden radio silence of Greta 6, a Federation colony consisting mostly of humans at the edge of the Frontier, was no exception.

McCoy and two other crewman in red and blue crept through the abandoned Parliament hall behind their Captain and Commander. The Doctor’s eyes darting from side to side and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Anticipation of the worst settling over his person like a living cloud.

His eyes flicked to the front, where Spock was running his tricorder over a stain on the floor, a few feet from an abandoned terminal at the reception desk of the building. They hadn’t seen a settler at all since they landed almost half an hour ago.

“What is it, Spock?” Jim asked, his phaser held at the ready at his side. Sweat breaking out on his forehead the same way it was on McCoy’s. Everyone in the landing party anxious except for Spock. It would seem.

McCoy’s hand itched as he wondered whether, if he were to reach out and reconnect with the Vulcan via their established mental link, Spock would really be as unaffected as he displayed.

“It’s blood, Captain.” Spock said, voice somber as he turned, showing the results of his scan to the Captain who frowned, looking around warily. “Human blood, spilt approximately two days ago. How, I could not say. Though there seems to be another unknown substance mixed with the DNA. I’ll have to take a sample and run it through the database on the Enterprise.”

“Blood…” Jim said, looking around and shaking his head. “What are we dealing with here?”

“I do not know, Captain,” Spock said, as he knelt down and used his phaser to remove a piece of the carpet with the necessary stain. “Though I believe it would be unwise to linger.”

“Noted.” The Captain said, “But it feels wrong to leave without investigating further. There could be survivors hiding here somewhere. After all, we picked up live readings from this building.”

“Also true, Captain.” Spock said, straightening, sample safely stowed in a bag strapped at his hip. 

“We stay together,” Jim said, “Set phasers to stun, be prepared for the worst. I don’t want any casualties today.” The Captain said, addressing the landing party. 

They all nodded, while McCoy frowned, the atmosphere growing tenser still. They moved deeper into the parliament building, going room to room, without signs of anyone. Though it was easy to tell there had been some kind of struggle. 

“What do you make of it?” McCoy asked, standing beside the Vulcan who was looking about thoughtfully as they passed the door to the library. 

“There was some kind of attack, but no signs of phaser fire… If the colony had been attacked by an outside force there would be traces of their ammunition. Burn marks, debris. Found commonly on sights attacked by Klingon Pirates or other enemies of the Federation.” The Vulcan bent over a table, brushing his fingers along strange gouge marks in the wooden surface. Frowning. 

“But if there was a fight-or a civil war-where are the bodies?” The Doctor asked. Spock turned to McCoy then, making eye contact with the Doctor for one of the first time in days. The Doctor quickly dropped his eyes to the marks on the table, touching them with his own fingers where the wood seemed still warmed by Spock’s fingers there, seconds earlier. “I can understand taking one or two for analysis if they’re not human, maybe even slavers from Deep space, but an entire colony?”

“That is the question, Doctor.” Spock said, he moved further into the room, where the Captain and the others had already gone through a door way just in front of them leading back into the hallway. 

Doctor McCoy lifted his gaze to the Vulcan’s back, sighing a little. It had been almost two weeks since their first mind meld on the Orion slaver ship after the disastrous C14 Incident and neither had really had a chance to discuss the lingering problem of their mental link. Untouched since the day after their return except for awkward accidental touches which shot through both of them like a lightning strike to the core.

The Doctor wasn’t sure how to broach it. Since it seemed so personal a thing. He wondered if it would just remain, growing slowly weaker, until it eventually evaporated altogether and if it caused the Vulcan the same kind of anguish it caused the Doctor. Thrumming impatiently whenever they were near. Skin itching to be united, teamed with a feeling like something had been removed, cut or left loose which only reunion could put back into place.

The surges of affection as well as the desire to capture the other’s attention and be wrapped in his mind grew stronger daily. The insatiable, selfish, nature of the link itching like an addiction. McCoy hated it, hated feeling like he was waiting on Spock to throw him some kind of mental bone. Hated feeling like the other had power over him that was outside of his control.

He had struggled with all kinds of emotions in regards to the Vulcan even BEFORE the mental link. Jealousy at how easily he captured the Captain’s attention, before it grew into a searing curiosity, begrudging respect, followed by an embarrassing transformation into something… Romantic.

McCoy rolled his eyes at himself, grimacing. Typical, he thought morbidly, it was in his nature to fall heavily for people that would never work out. It was how he sabotaged his first relationship with his ex-wife and how he had continued to do so with each one following after that.

The Doctor shook away his thoughts. Focusing on the job at hand. He followed after Spock down the hall, trying to catch up with the Vulcan. Damn man walked far too fast! He was walking by an open door on his left when he stopped, frowning and took a step back. Standing at the center of the room, which had been used as a kind of parliament with an adjoining doorway on the far wall. Was Spock.

McCoy frowned, standing in the doorway, staring at the Vulcan who stood right in front of his eyes at the middle of the room. Bones’ instinctively knew that something was wrong just by looking at him. Though his back was turned McCoy could see that Spock’s shirt, the same blue, seemed to have some kind of mark down the back of it. He stood strangely, favoring one leg more than the other and his chest did not rise and fall with the same regularity that Spock usually breathed.

A cold sweat suddenly broke out on the Doctor’s forehead as he hesitantly took a step into the room. Had the landing party been attacked while he was in the other room? Certainly Spock would have called out? Why was there no phaser fire?

“… Spock?” McCoy called. 

Spock was only there for a moment, before he seemed to startle, casting a look over his shoulder and then disappearing through the door at the other end of the room. McCoy stood, looking out the doorway into the hall and then back at where Spock had just disappeared. “Spock!” He called again. 

There was silence, before McCoy heard a cry of pain.

He had crossed the room before he had time to rationalise, chasing Spock into another hallway. He looked left, then right, catching the end of Spock going through another doorway into another room. He took out his phaser, fear due to the other’s strange behaviour making him defensive. 

As he walked, tip toeing, he flipped open his communicator. 

“Captain, this is McCoy, I think Spock’s been injured-or at least he’s acting strangely, I’m following him into the West wing.” He said, before closing his communicator and quietly slipping into the room where Spock had gone. 

Inside of the room Spock was slumped over a desk in the corner. His breathing deep and ragged, the back and front of his shirt covered in what McCoy could only recognise as blood. Rust coloured and splattered even across the back of the Vulcan’s neck.

McCoy swallowed. Phaser gripped tightly in hand. 

“Spock,” He whispered, “What happened? Are you-“

He had taken a step towards the Vulcan when two things happened simultaneously. One, the Doctor remembered that Vulcans did not bleed red, but green and that though Spock was covered in a lot of blood none of it appeared to be his own.

The second was the whine of his communicator, followed by the unmistakable timber of his Vulcan friend.

“Doctor McCoy, do not pursue, I am not presently in the West Wing,” Spock’s voice said clearly.

Bones’ went sheet white. In front of him, the bloodied-person- began to straighten, the limp and strange gait replaced with the reptile-like elegance of a confident predator. It turned, its face a mockery of the Doctor’s friend. Mouth curved upward in a devilish snarl. Hands covered in gore and fingers tapered into claws. 

“My God,” McCoy said. It pounced with a high pitched wail at the same moment McCoy fired. 

The creature was thrown backwards into a book shelf, books raining down onto the thing from above. McCoy wasted no time in checking its pulse, turning on his tail and legging it out of the room. 

He made it into the hallway, backtracking, when he came to the doorway through which he had passed and saw a heaving, bulbous, humanoid creature with teeth like an Earth leech and eyes like a spider’s slouching through the room. 

It saw him the same moment he saw it and let out a horrifying, keening, wail. 

McCoy slammed the door closed before it could ram its body against it. Breath coming in sharp gasps of terror. He pushed a filing unit in front of the door and kept running down the hall, flipping open his communicator. 

“Damnit, Jim, Spock, we’re not alone! There are-things-here! Where are you?” McCoy cried, sprinting down the hallway. Behind him, he heard another unearthly groan and the pounding of footsteps.

He didn’t bother looking over his shoulder, just swerved around the corner of the hallway and kept running in the direction of the Entry hall. His communicator whined.

“Doctor, I am pinpointing your location using your communicator. Continue heading down the hall way which you are on and then take a left through the door marked ‘Lobby’. The Captain is preparing a beam up for the landing party I will meet you in the lobby.”

“Bring your phaser Spock and set it to high, I just stunned this thing and barely scratched it!”

“Noted, Doctor, run faster.”

McCoy swore, almost slipping on a patch of blood leading to a vent at his feet. He shouldered the wall, but caught sight of the door Spock had mentioned. He leapt for it, ripping it open. Once inside he saw Spock, silhouetted against the connecting door way. Phaser in hand. 

He went to run for it, but was caught from behind and pulled backwards off his feet and through the door which he had come.

“Sp-ACK-“ He garbled, thrown to his back on the hall way floor. 

The creature wearing Spock’s face was splattered in blood, its mouth opened wide in a circle of teeth. McCoy threw up his phaser and fired into the creature’s chest at point-blank range. It wailed, dropping bodily on top of McCoy in a heap. 

Gasping for breath, the Doctor tried to push the hideous thing off him. As he did so however, its friend, the one which he had sealed in the parliament room climbed over the body of its partner. Teeth seemingly pulled in a brutal snarl of a smile.

McCoy’s eyes widened as the beast lunged for his neck, he used his free arm to defend himself and the creature missed, sinking its teeth instead into the flesh of the Doctor’s shoulder.

The Doctor cried out, thrashing, phaser pinned beneath the body of the first creature, he tried to pry the creature’s mouth from his shoulder just as a sickening sensation of being sucked throbbed through his body.

McCoy almost fainted at the pain. Just as the familiar sound of phaser fire rung through the air and the creature was torn, boneless, from McCoy’s neck. 

The Doctor slapped a hand to the bite wound, attempting to stop the bleeding even in his shocked state. Squeezing his eyes closed in an attempt to remain conscious.

The real Spock rolled the impostor off of McCoy, glancing at it for a moment before placing his full attention on the Doctor. 

“Doctor, can you stand?” Spock said. 

“I don’t know,” McCoy hissed, a strange tingling beginning in his neck and making its way down his arms. He took his hand off the bite, attempting to look at it, and a wet trail of some clear liquid dangled from between the bite and his hand.

McCoy almost threw up. Spock pushed the Doctor’s hand aside and pressed an emergency compress to the wound. Then he placed one hand under the Doctor’s knees and the other under his back, lifting him, with ease, into the air. 

If the strange tingling sensation hadn’t begun to spread to his throat McCoy would’ve given him a mouth full. As it was Spock somehow managed to flip his communicator open, ignoring the Doctor’s outraged expression.

“Two to beam up.” He said calmly then adjusted McCoy in his arms, making eye contact with the Doctor (who had begun to shake, mercy) the first time since the attack. McCoy was about to say something smart when he noticed that Spock actually looked frightened. 

McCoy smiled, though it appeared more like a grimace.

“That bad, huh?” He croaked, though his words were quickly lost to the light of the transporter beam. 

They arrived seconds later in the transporter room. Nurse Chapel and a small team were already present with a stretcher. The away team were there too. 

McCoy couldn’t help but notice he was the only one who had been attacked. He sighed inwardly, typical.

He patted Spock, in an attempt to get him to release him, accidentally brushing the other’s wrist in the process. The emotional transmission was one of the most intense McCoy had ever felt between them.

Fear, concern, protectiveness and rage a potent cocktail striking McCoy right to his heart. He looked up at Spock, who had looked down at the touch. The feelings grew stronger, Spock did not attempt to dull them like he usually did when they shared thought, as if the Vulcan was so distracted by the moment he didn’t notice how emotional he had become. McCoy removed his hand from Spock’s skin.

In the time it took for McCoy to reach this realisation Jim had rushed to his side.

“Are you alright?” Jim asked. 

“I can stand.” McCoy said. Embarrassed at all the attention he was getting, cradled in Spock’s arms. The Vulcan gently placed his feet on the ground. McCoy straightened, and then began to fall, his legs completely useless.

Jim went to catch him but Spock was faster, holding the Doctor up by his forearms. Their link re-established and concern flared like wild fire between them. McCoy tried to stand but couldn’t feel his toes. 

“… My legs are numb.” He said. The Captain and first officer shared a look. McCoy allowed Spock and the Captain to transfer him to the awaiting Stretcher and lay down on it. He held up his hands, baffled, as he attempted to maneuver his fingers and failed. 

“I can’t move my fingers either,” He said, tongue feeling thicker with each passing second. He glanced at Chapel, who was pulling him towards the medical bay. Transporter room disappearing behind them. Spock and Jim disappeared and he focused on his head nurse. Rapidly giving her the story of what happened, in case he wasn’t able to in a few minutes time.

True to form his body began to slowly lose sensation, starting in the extremities of his limbs and working its way backwards towards his chest. His heart pounded, terrified, as he finally lost the ability to lift his head, just as they appeared in the medical bay. 

‘It’s venom,’ He thought as Chapel barked orders at the others, fierce and determined. ‘Paralytic.’ He would have to be given the anti-venom before his heart stopped. He thought wildly. He blinked, all the action that he was able to do, until his eyes closed and he could not open them again...


	2. Chapter 2

He remained there, locked in and unable to speak, for a long time. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of the Doctor’s life, as he listened to Chapel and the other Doctors working tirelessly on a reversal to his paralysis. Their voices eventually droning together with the beeping of his monitor. 

The Doctor lay, unfeeling, disorientated and in the dark, for a long time. 

It wasn’t until almost an hour later that he heard the familiar voice of Spock whispering across his subconscious.

‘Oh thank God,’ He thought, a rush of relief washing over him as the link between them reignited, the edges of Spock’s mind and his own blurring. Warmth pushing aside the Doctor’s fear. 

‘You are conscious then, Doctor.’ Spock thought, relief increasing between them. The Doctor laughed, sarcastically, as well as one is able to within their own head and felt Spock’s confusion at the emotion, no doubt a difficult one to grasp for a Vulcan.

‘Yes I am, can’t move but I’m still here. That damn thing must have some kind of natural venom in its bite. How are they going working on an antidote?’

‘We have captured the specimen which attacked you and brought it on board the ship. We have created what we believe is an anti-venom, however to test it we must administer some to you.’

Concern brushed at the edge of McCoy’s mind, mixed with his own anxiety. He pushed it down, trying to remain calm-for Spock’s sake. 

‘That’s alright,’ He thought as calmly as he could, he couldn’t even feel the other’s fingers where they touched him. ‘We have to try. I don’t fancy staying like this forever-or until my heart gives out…’ He hadn’t meant to project the last thought, but it happened anyway and he felt Spock’s influence quickly checking over his vital signs. The Vulcan’s mind seeming to probe at different parts of him. It was an extremely odd sensation.

‘… Did you just examine my heart, Mr Spock?’ McCoy thought. Said organ beating rapidly in response.

There was no reply except for a strange silence through the link. Like Spock had closed off his side for a moment. McCoy wondered, panicking for a moment, if the link had broken and he was alone again. Spock’s warmth returned the instant before the panic could manifest properly. 

‘Sorry Doctor, I was just checking for signs of stress. It is not unusual for Vulcans to have complete control of their bodies. I did not think on the ramifications of such an examination on another person without permission.’

‘Don’t call me Doctor when you’re in my head, Spock.’ McCoy responded. His heart calming at the apology. ‘You know my name-and probably more about me than anyone else does now-the least you can do is call me by my first name.’

‘I’m sorry… Leonard.’ 

McCoy’s entire body seemed to warm, the stress of the situation on his body seeming to lift. If he had been able to, he would have smiled. He tried to keep any inappropriate thoughts to a minimum while he wasn’t alone but some of the affection snuck in anyway. He hoped Spock didn’t look into it too much.

‘That’s better. Now you gonna inject me or what? I want you to do it. Chapel will blame herself if it goes wrong.’

‘… I will administer the dose presently.’

‘Good.’ McCoy thought, before realising that this might be his last moment with his friend, in this dark, warm, place. The strange in between world between his own consciousness and Spock’s. That he might not open his eyes-if this went wrong. ‘Wait-Spock!’

‘Yes, Leonard?’

‘… Tell Jim it’s alright-and it IS alright, whatever happens… You understand?’

‘… Understood.’

‘Thanks. See you in a second… I guess.’

Spock released his hold on McCoy and he was alone again inside his own head. So cold in comparison to moments earlier. 

The next few minutes were some of the tensest of the Doctor’s life, shortly, after he assumed the dose was injected he began to regain feeling in the tips of his fingers and toes. However at the same rate that sensation returned his heart rate began to accelerate. 

He could hear again too, the voices of his medical team monitoring his progress, becoming worried at the pounding of his heart. He twitched his fingers, gasping, as he began to pass the rapid palpitations of a small panic attack and veer dangerously close to heart attack. 

Unable to move properly all he could do was lie still as his heart, shocked into action by the anti-venom, attempted to flush the antidote around his body fast enough to kill him. 

“Nurse Chapel, administer a sedative.” Spock’s voice. 

“But Commander-“ That was Chapel. McCoy gasped, feeling like his heart was about to burst from his chest.

“Spock that could-“ Jim’s voice, on McCoy’s right, grasping his arm tightly.

“That is a direct order.” Spock again. He knew the risk, administering a sedative directly after the fresh anti-venom could counteract its affects and send McCoy into a vegetative state. Permanently crippling him.

It was the hard choice and someone had to make it.   
Of course that someone would be Spock.

Seconds later a hypo was injected into McCoy’s neck, right near the bite. He gasped, hand reaching and finding Spock’s where it was clamped around the edge of his bed. His heart stuttered and blind fear, absolute terror, gripped the Doctor suspended as he stood on the edge of death. 

Through their touch, Spock projected absolute authority into one simple word.

‘No.’ 

McCoy was jerked back from the brink. His heart restarting, slowing, until it returned to normal. He opened his eyes, exhausted and looked up into the faces of the Captain, Chapel and Spock. Who all stood around him. 

“Oh, Doctor!” Chapel said, a sincerely blinding smile lighting her features. Beside her Jim was shaking his head, beaming down at him.

“…What?” McCoy said, smiling tiredly at the pair of them, trying for levity, “Did someone die?”

“No,” Jim said, chuckling and squeezing McCoy’s shoulder, “It’s good to have you back, Bones.”

“I never left.” McCoy mumbled. Slightly dazed from the sedative. He looked over at Spock, who was staring down at him, expression completely blank. McCoy smiled at the Vulcan and patted his wrist gently.

“I’m alright.” He said, assuring the man who would never admit he needed it. “Thanks for the hypo, by the way, I was feeling a little… Light headed.”

“You were going into cardiac arrest, Leonard.” Spock said. Slipping up on his name, Jim and Chapel shared a quick look but didn’t say anything. McCoy had the decency to ignore it all together.

“Oh, was that what that was?” Bones joked. Spock did not smile, removing his hand from the Doctor’s reach. 

“The anti-venom will have to be refined if it is to be used again in the future.” Spock said, addressing the room. Jim and Chapel were watching Spock strangely. “I will require fresh samples in order to complete tests to a satisfactory degree. Please excuse me.”

“You’re excused…” Jim said, as Spock turned on the spot and left the room.

A silence followed.

“… You’d think he was worried or something.” McCoy joked, sliding the hand which had been touching Spock under the covers and ignoring the bitter sting of his rejection.

\--

It took 24 hours before the venom was flushed completely from the Doctor’s system. The aftermath hit him like a freight ship. One of the worst hang overs he had ever had.

He spent 12 hours in the medical bay before he was cleared to rest in his own quarters. Hitting his bed and staying there for longer than he had in weeks. When he finally summoned the energy and the will to rise he went straight to Jim. Wanting to know what had happened to the colony.

“We tracked the life readings to a nest under a science building,” Jim said where they sat in a debriefing room. “Spock, myself and the landing team found about 10 settlers still alive. They’re in the medical bay now. But the others…” The Captain shook his head. “The state of them, Bones. I don’t want to imagine what they suffered. Once the planet is cleared of those-things-there’s going to be a memorial service held for the ones that didn’t make it. Until then Starfleet is affecting a complete quarantine immediately.”

McCoy listened in silence, trying not to imagine for himself what those people suffered. Locked into their own bodies the way he had been, helpless prey for those nightmares. 10 survivors out of a colony of over 500.

“And the creatures?” McCoy asked, “What are they?”

“There are no solid reports of what they are. They’re being called Greta Vampires by the crew. They have the ability to take on the form of anyone they see, but can’t speak. Spock is running tests on the one we have in the lab. He’ll have a refined antidote to the venom by the end of the night, I’d wager.”

“Vampires…” McCoy said, rubbing the scar tissue on his shoulder where he had been bitten. “Sounds about right.”

Jim smiled, tiredly. “I’m glad you’re okay, Bones. I know you’ll want to work on helping those people but don’t push yourself. We don’t know how long the bite will affect you and I don’t want you to over extend yourself.” 

“I’m fine, Jim.” McCoy said. “I’m going to go down to the labs and help Spock with that antidote. The sooner it’s completed the less I’ll worry.”

Jim nodded, like hadn’t expected anything less. “I thought you’d say that. Spock’s been down there since you recovered. I’m not even sure if he’s slept. I think he’d probably like the company.”

McCoy snorted, “I’ll probably get in his way, as far as he’s concerned, but I don’t care. We’re going to help those people.”

“Good luck, Bones. Let me know if you have any break throughs.” Jim said. 

\--  
The labs were eerily quiet when McCoy entered them. Usually it was a bustle of people, but tonight it was strangely empty. The scientists he did pass nodding at him and swiftly returning to their projects, looking twitchy. The Doctor made his way towards Spock’s lab, passing by the observation room as he went. 

He stopped, staring inside, at one of the Greta Vampires captured within. It was currently standing against the opposite wall, long clawed hand scraping deep gauges into the steel walls of its cell. Upon McCoy’s observation of the creature, it turned. 

It looked like Spock.

A shiver ran down McCoy’s spine as the beast seemed to stare right at him through the two way glass. Stalking over to where he stood, sniffing the air. Imitating Spock without any of the subtle nuances of his posture. It was like watching a spider move inside the body of a wolf. Strange and monstrous. 

“Unsettling, isn’t it?” 

McCoy jumped, backing into the wall behind him as the real Spock, holding a padd in hand appeared through a door at the other side of the room. The Vulcan stopped, seemingly surprised by McCoy’s fright.

“Damnit Spock! You can’t just sneak up on a man like that!” McCoy yelled, holding a hand over his heart. “You wanna give me a second heart attack in as many days? Good God man!”

“I’m sorry Doctor, I did not know you were unaware of my presence.” Spock gently put down his padd, McCoy shook his head, straightening and returning his gaze to the creature. 

It was now bodily pressed to the glass, its ear pressed against the mirror, horrifying teeth bared. The sight of it would stay with McCoy for a very long time.

Spock followed the Doctor’s gaze, crossing over to a machine and removing several sample vials.

“It impersonates me because I was the one who captured it,” He said, “I am also the only one who has had contact with it since the attack. When I found it it was wearing a different face.”

“How did you know it was the one that bit me?” McCoy asked.

Spock looked up at the Doctor, expression dark for a moment. 

“I looked into its mind.”

McCoy stared at Spock, who was again diligently working, avoiding eye contact.

“You mind melded with that-thing?” McCoy asked.

Spock nodded, “It was the fastest way to be certain.”

McCoy looked at the creature then back to Spock, “What was that like?”

Spock straightened, staring at the Doctor, wearing that same closed off expression from the medical bay the day previous. 

“I would rather not discuss it, Doctor.”

That bad, it seemed. 

“Okay.” McCoy said, dropping the subject. “Jim says you’re working on the antidote, I want to help.”

Spock nodded and the pair got to work...


	3. Chapter 3

“I swear it’s looking at me.” McCoy said for the third time that night. Spock was carefully refining one of three possible antidotes as McCoy took a moment to look over his shoulder at the creature in its holding cell. It was stood in a corner now, eyes set on where McCoy was sitting. 

Spock glanced up but kept his focus trained on his work. 

“Specimen 1G6 has exceptional eyesight and the ability to pin point prey based on vibrations on the surfaces around it. The lung capacity and thick hide of the creature also suggests that it could survive for a time in the vacuum of space. Possibly clinging to the wreck of a vessel or asteroid.”

“… But do you think it’s looking at me?” Bones asked again.

Spock looked up from his work. Glancing between the creature and where McCoy sat.

“I have not run the proper tests to assess whether 1G6 has the ability to see through two way glass. However it is probable that the creature is able to feel the minute vibrations from the balls of your feet tapping on the floor every 1.5 minutes and is able to estimate your proximity from there.”

McCoy frowned and stopped tapping his foot on the ground. 

“The first two solutions are ready, how is yours going?” McCoy asked, getting up and joining Spock’s side, looking over his shoulder where he was transferring his antidote to a hypo spray container. 

“Ready for testing, Doctor. I have changed the chemical makeup of the original serum like you suggested and believe that upon application it will reverse the effects of the venom without putting as much stress on the human heart.”

“I hope so,” McCoy said, “That first one had a hell of a punch!”

It was the first time McCoy had brought up his near death experience the day before. Spock went still again, the subtle gestures he used when displaying Vulcan versions of feeling stopping.

McCoy frowned as Spock packed up his gear mechanically placing the three hypos they had worked on in a carrying case to be brought up to the medical bay. The Vulcan stood, frowning deeply and Bones pressed a hand to the man’s chest as he went to brush by him.

“Hey now, hold on a second.” He said, looking up into the Vulcan’s face. In the holding cell, the Greta Vampire was pressed against the glass, seeming to watch them. Spock looked up at the creature, a hideous impersonation of himself, then back to the Doctor.

As much as he attempted to hide it, McCoy could almost see his guilt.

“Now before we go a step further with this I want to say something.” McCoy said, “And you’re going to hear me out, no interrupting.”

“Doctor-“

“Spock.” McCoy said, tone final. Spock closed his mouth. “I want to thank you, for what you did for me yesterday. You saved my life, not once, but twice.” McCoy said as he looked down, guiltily. “I know that it was a hard choice, yesterday, giving me that sedative. Chapel wouldn’t have been able to do it without a push and Jim-Jim might have. But they both hesitated. I know, I heard it.”

Spock showed nothing, face carefully blank, as he responded. “It was the logical decision, Doctor.” He said resolutely. 

McCoy looked up at his friend, knowing a deflection when he heard one. He’d heard enough from Spock in his time aboard the Enterprise to be a master at reading them. Hell, if it weren’t for the link between them he might even have gone on believing that Spock felt no emotion at all. 

But it was impossible to believe a lie like that anymore, even if the Vulcan had convinced himself.

“It was logical,” McCoy conceded, “But that doesn’t mean it was easy.”

Spock locked eyes with the Doctor and held his gaze. McCoy swallowed under the intelligent appraisal there. The Doctor was the first to look away.

“I don’t want to carry on too long, we’ve gotta get those people up there sorted.” He went on. “But what I wanted to say is this: It’s not your fault, Spock. That I reacted the way I did. That’s just biochemistry and it was definitely not your fault I was bitten. I shouldn’t have wandered off like that. I’m a grown man and a Starfleet officer! I should’ve known better.”

Spock seemed to take a deep breath and exhale slowly, the closest to a sigh McCoy had ever seen the other achieve. When the Doctor looked back up at Spock he seemed a little less stiff. One eyebrow raised, staring down at McCoy with a look that could only be regarded as fond, by Vulcan standards.

“Doctor-“

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” McCoy said, flustered by the admission. He took the case of hypos from Spock and turned on the spot, “Let’s get out of here, that Vampire is giving me the creeps.”

The Doctor quickly left the lab, leaving Spock in his wake. After a last glance at the creature pressed, hissing, against the glass Spock followed him. 

\--  
The anti-venoms were applied to 3 random citizens of Greta 6. The last, which had the best effect with the least side effects, was then replicated and distributed to the remaining survivors. By the end of that night each survivor had regained consciousness. 

The terror in their faces was enough to make McCoy’s heart ache anew. One of the survivors was a young girl named Madeline, around 8 years old; her parents were not among the remaining survivors. After realising this the little girl refused to speak. 

She reminded McCoy so much of his own daughter, Joanna, that he found himself giving her special attention, when the others were out of immediate danger. He sat by her bedside, brushing the hair out of her eyes and talking with her about her life on Greta 6 before the incident. 

By the end of the 2nd day Madeline was answering questions with small nods and shakes of her head. Improvement. McCoy was very proud of her.

The adult survivors did not bounce back as quickly. Most had to be sedated to stop the nightmares and panic attacks when thinking back on their weeks of imprisonment. The Captain had tried to get a report from one of the stronger of them, a scientist named Adam Jones. 

He managed to tell the beginning of his story. About the appearance of a trader ship which appeared with a crew half dead, half unable to speak. It only took a few days before the Greta Vampires had integrated themselves into different parts of the Colony. Setting up individual nests, hunting the settlers day and night and imprisoning them in basements, attics, feeding off them. 

After that the man was unable to speak, dissolving into tears and had to be sedated to stop from hurting himself as he attempted to pull the hair from his head in his anguish, screaming for his wife.

It was an awful period in the Enterprise’s history and Bones was in the middle of it. He didn’t sleep for 2 days trying to keep the survivors comfortable. Keep them from attempting suicide or just wandering, aimless, around the ship. Shells of who they were. Eyes hollow and expressions dark. Like walking ghosts.

The Doctor had always believed in a fundamental strength of spirit which all beings possessed to some degree-but these people-scarred and frightened-appeared to be devoid of any kind of hope. It was draining to watch, but he fought as hard as he could to lift their spirits. 

By the end of the second day one of the women actually smiled at him. 

Presently McCoy sat at his desk, looking over reports on the recovering conditions of the settlers. They had been imprisoned, unable to move, for almost a month and their muscles, minds and spirits had deteriorated. They would need months of physiotherapy, counselling and recovery in order to resemble who they once had been and he was determined that they should get it. 

The Enterprise was currently looking to transfer them to an interstellar hospital a few days away but until they got there these people were under McCoy’s care and he wouldn’t rest without doing everything he could for them. 

There was a knock at his door that the Doctor missed, face rested, distorted, against his palm. The knock came again and McCoy slipped from his hand, almost hitting his nose on the table from where he had almost fallen asleep at his post. 

“What? What? Sorry, come in!” He said, grumpily. Leaning back in his chair tiredly and wiping the drool that had spilt from his lip onto his shirt. 

Spock entered, holding the results of a blood test McCoy had asked for earlier that evening. He brightened a little, leaning forward and holding his hand out for it. 

“Your results, Doctor.” Spock said, handing them over to McCoy who took them, quickly flicking through them. “The venom is slowly being completely removed from their bodies, though more transfusions may be necessary to completely rid them of it.”

“Thanks, that’s good. They’ll get ‘em then.” McCoy drawled, accent slipping in thicker with exhaustion. He sat back and rubbed an eye tiredly as he read, then remembered that Spock was still in the room. He put down the padd, looking up at the Vulcan, blinking tiredly.

“… Can I do something for you, Mr Spock?” He asked.

Spock straightened, holding his hands behind his back. McCoy prepared for a talking to. 

“Doctor, you have been awake for approximately 43 hours.”

“41.” McCoy said. “I took a nap in here earlier, while you were workin’ on these.” He lifted the padd, looking over it again while Spock continued.

“Even so, a human being cannot function at full capacity without at least 7 hours of sleep to each 24 spent awake.” Spock said. 

McCoy frowned stubbornly at Spock over the top of his padd. “I think we both know there are exceptions to these things, after all, you’ve been awake almost twice as long as I have.”

“Vulcans do not require the same amount of rest as humans do.” Spock replied shortly. 

“… Did Jim put you up to this? He was nagging at me around this same time yesterday.” McCoy growled.

Spock was undeterred. “The Captain has expressed concern, however I appeal to you of my own volition.”

“What, like you care about me or something?” McCoy snapped. 

Spock seemed to bite back on a retort, lips a straight line as he raised an eyebrow at McCoy, who immediately regretted his words. He put down the padd, rubbing his hands across his eyes again. 

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Maybe I am a little tired.”

“An understatement, Doctor.” Spock said curtly, “Your last official report on the condition of the survivors contained exactly 3 grammatical errors-“

“Alright Spock,”

“5 spelling mistakes-“

“Spock-“

“And one miscalculation.” Spock finished. McCoy looked up at the Vulcan darkly while the man just stared, blankly, back. If it were in his nature McCoy imagined the man would have been smirking smugly. “I have revised the report and sent it to your personal terminal so that you may make the appropriate revisions before sending it onward to Starfleet Command.”

“… Thanks.” McCoy muttered. 

Spock inclined his head in recognition of the gratitude while McCoy finally sighed and picked himself up out of his chair, feeling a little shaky on his legs, though he didn’t show it. He’d dose himself up with a shot of Greta Vampire venom before he allowed Spock to bridal carry him again the way he had done on the colony.

“You gonna walk me to my rooms, Spock?” McCoy asked, smirking at the other. “Make sure I get home before curfew?”

“While I do not believe it is necessary to treat you as if you are an unruly adolescent Doctor your quarters are only a short deviation from my path to the laboratory. If company will improve your ability to rest upon arrival I will join you.” Spock said simply.

McCoy tried not to read into that too much, raising his eyebrows at the other who continued looking right on ahead, nodding at Chapel who smiled at McCoy as he waved at her and mumbled a quiet ‘good night’ as he left the Medical Bay. No doubt Chapel had copped the brunt of his exhaustion over the past two days. He’d have to make it up to her.

The pair walked in silence through the Enterprise, the low hum of its engines a constant reminder of their path through space. The artificial lighting making it difficult to believe that the Doctor had spent the last two days awake, the hours slipping away from him.

“… I have to fix them, Spock.” McCoy said suddenly, half way through their journey, while the pair of them shared a turbo lift toward his quarters. The Vulcan looked over at McCoy, whose eyes had slowly begun to slip closed, lent against the side of the elevator. “After what they’ve been through, what they’ve seen, I owe it to them, I have to. No more should die.”

Spock watched the other man closely as the lift opened, McCoy stumbled out of it, walking like he was in a trance. He wondered, dizzily, if maybe the venom still remained in his system, tiring him out-as he was certain he had gone longer without sleep before and not been half as light on his feet.

Spock followed him, a hand touching the Doctor’s back to steady him as they stopped outside of McCoy’s quarters, he punched in his code and the door swooshed open. He smiled, glumly, his mind replaying the sad tiny tilt of Madeline’s head as he asked her if she liked chocolates, if she was 8 years old, if she’d ever seen a flower before.

He looked down, grimacing, like he’d been punched in the gut. 

“Doctor,” 

McCoy wondered if she would live a normal life, if she’d be fostered on a nice planet, deep within Federation Space. Or if she would forever be haunted by her experience on Greta 6, the way he was haunted by his own experiences. He hoped that she would be too young to remember it, that her elastic, child mind would simply black it from existence. So that she could live a normal life. 

God he hoped so. 

“Leonard.” McCoy looked up, Spock had his hands on his shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. McCoy flushed, realising he had been standing in his doorway for almost a minute, staring at the opposite wall. He nodded, shakily, sucking in a deep breath and pushing the worry aside. Trying to be clinical. It had always been his downfall. How much he cared for his patients. His teachers had always said so.

“I’m alright, I’m alright.” He mumbled, patting the other’s arm. Spock released him and McCoy smiled again, weakly. “Sorry, just thinking about things. Got lost for a second.”

“You are concerned about the patients.” Spock said.

“Yeah,” McCoy laughed tiredly. “Yeah I am.”

“… May I assist you in seeking respite?” Spock asked. McCoy frowned at the Vulcan, unable to decode the offer in his current state. A dumb part of his brain wondered if the other were soliciting him. 

“Pardon?” McCoy asked.

Spock reached out and touched the other’s wrist. 

Immediate, overwhelming, calm flooded McCoy. Like a breath of fresh air in a cold and dusty room. He sighed aloud, almost dropping to his knees at the immediate loss of stress. The instantaneous dispersion of worry.

‘My God, you could sell this, you know? Better than any anti-depressant I’ve ever taken,’ He thought, mind blissed out by Spock’s presence, calm and content. Soothing his nerves. 

‘It is the result of countless hours of mediation,’ Spock responded, leading McCoy into his quarters, the Doctor just followed, unaware he was walking, doing it completely by impulse. Happy to give over control for a moment. ‘With the proper discipline and training you could master it as well.’

‘And give up all this impulsive human emotion?’ McCoy smiled, his affection and mirth blossoming like a small ember between them. ‘Not likely.’

Spock mirrored his easy humour and helped McCoy take off his shoes, peel off his uniform shirt and collapse, exhausted into bed. The Vulcan remained connected to the Doctor the entire time, even when their skin parted for a few seconds. McCoy wondered if the connection between them was growing stronger.

‘I believe so, Leonard.’ Spock thought, answering the question after they had reconnected again before McCoy finished thinking on it. ‘If we continue in this way it may become impossible to break unassisted.’

‘I don’t want to.’ McCoy confessed honestly. ‘It’s not doing either of us any harm is it?’

Spock took a few moments to reply, pulling McCoy’s blanket over his hip and up to his shoulder, where the Doctor took it and pulled it around himself, watching the other like he was watching through the eye of a camera. Lost somewhere between the subconscious and conscious world.

‘… No.’ Spock finally said. McCoy smiled, eyes closing.

‘Then let it be…’ He thought.

Spock watched the Doctor drifting into sleep, brushing aside any worries or doubt that threatened the other as he tried to rest. Waiting until the other was deeply asleep before finally releasing his wrist. Holding the hand that had been touching the Doctor close to his chest and willing down the rapid beating of his Vulcan heart in his side.

He only watched the Doctor for a few minutes, willing down his rapid pulse, before he left him to return to his own quarters a short walk away, setting up his mediation mat and incense and sinking into a deep, self-exploratory, mediation. 

\--

“You have your things?” McCoy asked, bent down on one knee in front of Madeline, who was currently holding tight to the hand of a distant relative, standing in the transporter room waiting to be beamed down to the Interstellar hospital on the planet below. Her short dark hair (which had had to be cut after the state she was found in) bouncing off her shoulders as she nodded.

“Your tooth brush?” Another nod, “Your bear?” A more enthusiastic one this time. McCoy smiled, rubbing the girl’s arm proudly. “Good girl. You’re a tough one Madi, that’s for sure. I’m going to miss you around here.”

The little girl smiled at the Doctor, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around McCoy’s shoulders in a tight hug. The Doctor patted her back, sucking down a pang of heart ache as he recalled hugs with his daughter back on Earth. 

“Okay, it’s alright,” He said, releasing the girl, she stepped back, small hands planted on his shoulders, eyes shining. “You be good now for your Auntie, she’s going to take care of you from now on. You can write to me whenever you like, okay?”

The little girl wept, but smiled and nodded one final time, returning to her Aunt’s side and clinging to her arm tightly. The woman smiled softly at McCoy, with the same dark eyes as her niece, etched with sadness over the loss of her sister on Greta 6.

“Say goodbye, Madeline.” The woman said. “Thank the Doctor and the Captain.”

McCoy stood, returning to Jim’s side, who was smiling down at the little girl, the last to leave the medical bay. Spock was on McCoy’s left, watching on silently. 

“… Bye,” Madi whispered the first word she had uttered since her rescue on Greta 6. Tears dripping down from her cheeks. McCoy didn’t cry, but it was a near thing, as the little girl stepped up onto the transporter pad and disappeared with her guardian in a beam of light. 

“… That is the last of them, Captain.” Spock said, the first to break the silence. McCoy wiped his eyes discretely on the back of his hand. A week’s worth of stress slowly falling from his shoulders now that his patients were out of his care and beyond his control. Their recovery completely up to them and the Doctors that would take them on from that moment.

“Yes, Mr Spock.” Jim said, “… I think it’s just about time for that shore leave we’re sorely due, don’t you think, gentleman?”

From the transporter control Scotty chimed in, “Aye Captain, I couldn’t agree more.”

“I agree.” Spock said.

McCoy took a deep breath, getting control of himself. He turned tired eyes to Jim, nodding weakly.

“Then it’s settled, I’ll file the proper paper work and send it off to Starfleet command as soon as possible. For now,” Jim patted McCoy firmly on the back, making McCoy smile tiredly. “How about a little Saurian brandy and a game of chess?”

“I hate chess.” McCoy said halfheartedly. 

“Good thing Spock loves it, isn’t that right, Spock?” Jim said, patting Spock on the back jubilantly.

“… I am not adverse to the game, Captain.” Spock replied.

“Excellent.” Jim crossed to a communications panel, “Sulu, you have the con,”

“Yes, Captain.” Sulu responded. 

“Gentleman,” Jim gestured for the pair to take the lead and followed after his two friends, noting with interest the way Spock’s fingers brushed, more than once, against the inside of McCoy’s wrist...

**To be completed...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep! The last story is coming!  
> Thank you for sticking with me if you have read this far. This is my first multi chapter fanfiction posted online and my first Spones!  
> It has taken a while to get these guys where I wanted them, their relationship needed to build slowly to be believable for me, in the next fic there will be a swap of perspective between both characters. So that the mental link can be examined from both sides and they can finally kiss (and not the Vulcan way by accident!).
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I've just finished writing the last fic of this series! You can read it here:  
> [ Shore Leave ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6186388)


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